A Wolf Among Lions
by PowderdSUGAAAR
Summary: Sansa's story of survival within the game of thrones.
1. Chapter 1

Sansa was uneasy on her feet; this had been the worst beating to date at the order of The King, soon her Lord Husband, and if not for the giant hands of The Hound to steady her she surely would fall to the ground. Many whispered voices were heard as she made the journey back to her chamber, only causing Sansa to weaken in her step but The Hound tightened his grasp upon her so she would not stumble. She would have once cowered at his familiarity but today she felt the safety within his arms, and leaned into his hold in hopes to find a long-lost comfort that she had not received since losing her family. As a child she had often been lulled into comfort by her mother and father after fighting with her sister, even her brothers when she had a bad dream, remembering of how she once had been awoken by a roar of thunder. Arya, of course, could sleep right through even when Sansa tried to wake her, so she made her way to her brother's chamber jumping when a new clash of thunder would hit. Calling to her brother Rob when she entered the chamber he shared with Jon, as they were still young, but he was sound asleep.

"What is it Sansa?" Jon whispered to her as he stirred from the noise of the storm.

"I-I'm scared." She hated to admit to the half-brother she relentlessly tormented, fearing he would mock her for her foolishness.

"Come." He gestured an arm and lifter his bed furs. Sansa was hesitant at first but another crack of thunder prompted her to run to his bed and jump into the bedding. There he held her, easing her back to sleep while gently stroking the back of her head. After that night she had been kinder to Jon and when she would wake in the night, he would be the first she would run to, and he would graciously allow her the comfort she needed. Even when they grew older and had their own chambers. Sansa still did not see Jon as a brother but had grew to appreciate him as a friend. She assumed he felt the same as they would not sword play in the yard as he did with Arya, but when they crossed paths a smile would draw on both of their faces in place of the mean words she once would have spat.

Now back in her prison within the castle walls of Kings Landing she dreamt of Jon rescuing her once again from her nightmares, this nightmare however she could not wake from. The Hound gestured her to enter the room but she was still paralyzed from the events that had taken place in the great hall. Not speaking a word, he pushed the door open, then motioned Sansa forward to which she complied. When reaching her bed, she merely stared at it unmoving.

"Rest girl." The Hound grunted. But Sansa was unresponsive so The Hound swept her up and Sansa let out a gasp, her eyes darting at him petrified. "You need rest." he continued, not as harshly as he usually spoke, knowing she was a broken Little Bird at this moment. Placing her gently on the bed allowing her to keep the cloak he had covered her with earlier. He was unsure he'd be able to pry it out of her hands even if he had wanted to, she had clung to it the whole journey back. But Sandor wanted her to keep it, he wanted to give her all the protection he could, but in this place, it was not safe to show kindness beyond escorting Sansa to her room and so Sandor left a part of himself with her.

* * *

Sansa awoke the next morning still in the torn dress, spotted with her own blood, her only warmth from The Hounds vast cloak. It smelled of stale wine and a musk she could only place as being his sent, but instead of repulsing her she found herself relaxing into it, wrapping the cloak more tightly about her slight body, giving her a temporary rest bite from the coming days affairs. Soon her hand maidens came to ready her for the day, Shae was the first to enter and upon seeing the state of Sansa she rushed to her side.

"My Lady you are hurt!" Shae had always been kind to Sansa, Tyrion had asked her to watch the girl and inform him of anything he might need to know. But as the weeks past she had grown fond of the child, and now seeing her stained in her own blood cause Shae to feel protective of her also. "who did this to you?" She spoke in a hushed tone so the other hand maids would not hear. "It was the Guards again wasn't it." Shae spat under her breath as she tried to help Lady Sansa to her feet. "Run the Lady a bath." she ordered a maid, "Lady Sansa is expected in court today." Sansa's brow furrowed.

"I wasn't aware I had to be in court today?" Sansa's concern easy to hear as she spoke. Shae led her to the bath and bolted the door so they could speak in private. "My Lady, the Tyrell's have asked to speak with the King. Whispers say Lady Margaery seeks his hand."

"But I am to marry the King" Sansa grew confused and feared this meant Joffrey finally meant to kill her. "He will have my head next to my Father's" Sansa's eyes watered a little as Shea helped bathe her.

"Hush now My Lady, he will not end your life, surely even a little worm such as he knows you are valuable." Shae caressed Sansa's cheek, "Come, we must get you ready."

The Hall was filled with noble men and women, none of whom spoke to Sansa _a daughter of a traitor _but this she welcomed, not having to paint on courtesies was a pleasant change. From the balcony Sansa witnessed the Lady Margaery as she fawned over the king, holding back a scoff as the King acted as he were chivalry incarnate. He spoke of Sansa and how it would be understandable for him to break an engagement with the daughter of a traitor, and before the Lords and Ladies he released Sansa and himself from their vow pledging to marry Margaery in her stead. The crowd cheered, Sansa noting how the Queen Mother had pained a smile upon her face but her eyes seethed. As the court emptied Sansa almost cheered with glee knowing she was finally free of the monster King.

"Lady Sansa." A voice purred almost serpent like in her ear. "I hope you don't mind me saying so but you look radiant today, every bit you Mother." He walked close at her side, a little too close, keeping step with her.

"Lord Baelish." She blushed as her skin crawled.

"I was sorry to hear of your annulled engagement... As I am sure you are devastated by the news." A sly smirk crept upon his lips as he eyed her up and down. "if you should ever need a friend to confide in you need only ask." Grasping her hand, pressing his lips to her supple skin before slithering away.

* * *

"We must find a suiter for the Lady Sansa." Lord Tywin's voice imposed over the small council. "She is the key to the North." He loomed over Tyrion. "What say you on this matter?" Tyrion's eyes scanned the small council members while shifting in his seat.

"I'd say we should betroth the girl to only a trustworthy suiter." Clearing his throat. "The North is a tempting prize for any man, and lesser men might forget where their true loyalties lye."

"Indeed." Tywin nodded in approval. "Leave us! I must speak with my son alone." Without hesitation Lord Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle took their leave.

"Father... the Stark girl has been through much. Could we not allow her the small courtesy of having some say in this matter?"

"And who do you suppose she might choose? The handsome Knight of Roses perhaps?"

"It was merely a-"

"You are no fool Tyrion, a cripple yes, an embarrassment, but not fool... We both know the one family she must unite with is the one she would never willingly choose. Not now my grandson has had his fun with her."

"Our King will not let her be so easily. Spoilt children often protest at relinquishing their toys." Tyrion met his father's eyes in understanding. "Whoever should marry the girl will have to protect her from him."

"Agreed."

"Might I ask who you had in mind?" Tyrion inquired.

"We both know she must wed a Lannister, and that foolish brother of yours has got himself captured. Tyrion's eyes widened "Father! you can't mean?" Tywin let out a sinister laugh "What you? Hahaha! No, my dear boy, you think I would trust you to lead the Lannister house and father the Heir to the Rock?" He relaxed in his chair, "I will marry the girl."


	2. Chapter 2

"Father, you must be able to see the madness in this?" Tywin scowled at his son's words. "I see no other option. No one else can be trusted to hold the North."

"But she is only a child." Tyrion pleaded with his father but found no remorse. His mind had set and nothing would change it. Tywin rose from his seat, "You wish the girl to be safe, yes?" Tyrion nodded. "Then it is settled!"

* * *

Sansa had hurried back to her chamber after court, Shea was waiting for her, "Well? Where the rumors true?" They had come accustomed in confiding in one another. Sansa nodded and smiled, nearly dancing to her hand maid's side "Oh Shae! I'm free! I'm truly free!" She smiled and even laughed a little. Something she hadn't done in the longest time.

"Remember child, they will still want to hold onto you." Shae warned while hugging Sansa, her hands cupping her face. "Barr your door at night, always, never forget. The little Lion might still try to take you." Her warning rang true in Sansa's mind and the reality suddenly hit her. "I... I will never be free. Will I."

"This place is full of danger, but I will watch over you."

"Thank you, Shae. You have been so kind to me, and a true friend. How will I ever repay you?"

"Hush now." Shae smiled at Sansa holding her hands in reassurance. Sansa suddenly remembered the Hounds cloak. "Shae, I wonder if you could do me a favor? I would do it myself but I am followed everywhere I go."

"Anything."

Sansa smiled and reached for the crumpled-up cloak. "Could you take this to be cleaned and bring it back here?" She rolled up the cloak and concealed it within a bed sheet

* * *

Sandor had been reeling that evening from thoughts of his Little Bird splattered with her own blood, him helpless to stop it. He awoke the next day rougher than he was used to, having drank endless cups of wine to block out the sweet sent Sansa had left on his chest when he put her to bed. Taking all of his strength to walk out of the room and not hold her all night in his arms. His hand ached, bringing his thoughts back to the present morning, noticing it was bloodied. A sizable dent in his chamber wall, remembering how he had drove his hand into it while picturing Joffrey's head. Reluctantly Sandor rose and readied for his duties.

"Ah Dog! There you are!" Joffrey scoffed. "Where is your cloak?" Sandor stood tall and strong, and though he was used to being unfeeling he was a mess of emotions when it came to the Little Bird. Forcing himself to speak with indifference towards her. "The girl bloodied it yesterday. Your Grace."

"See it is cleaned at once." Sandor nodded at the King's words. "Oh, and Dog, remind her of her manners. Ruining a Knights cloak isn't very becoming of a Lady." Sandor nodded and took his leave, gritting his teeth as he made his way to Sansa's chamber. He and never been ordered to hurt the Bird, until now.

Sansa stiffened at the sound of banging on her door, "Enter." She spoke softly. Sandor entered the chamber shutting the door behind him, Sansa's instinct to look away from the man took hold.

"Look at me girl." He barked, forcing Sansa to bear witness to the scarred flesh. "My cloak." Sansa suddenly smiled hurrying to retrieve it from under her bed. She had hidden it there after Shae had returned it. Sandor was bewildered as he watched her bring it to him, seemingly gratified by her good deed. Snatching it from her as she handed it to him. "What in the hells have you done to it?!" The fabric was softer than usual, and it smelled much different, almost of flowers.

"I-I had it cleaned." Her smile fading, "As a thank you."

Sandor scorned her. "For what? I'm a Dog. I only do as I'm told, have you learned nothing?"

"I-I"

"And now you would have me smell of flowers like some poncey Knight?" Sansa's lip quivered causing Sandor's rage to subdue and with a heavy sigh he dropped the matter. "Paint a bruise on your cheek before leaving the chamber, you hear?" Sansa nodded as Sandor stormed from the room. After he had left Sansa stopped herself from sobbing, she had been called to meet with Lord Tywin tonight, but did as he had asked and painted a mark upon her cheek as best she could. She had seen so many bruises upon her flesh as of late she knew how one should look.

* * *

"Ah, My Lady, please come in." Tywin pulled out a chair for her to sit opposite him at his table. As she approached him he noted the mark on her cheek. "My Lady who has done this to you." As he reached out to draw her chin closer to him Sansa pulled away. "It's nothing My Lord."

"I beg to differ." He argued while taking his seat. "You see My Lady I have asked you here this evening as I have a proposal of marriage for you."

"I'm honored Sir, but who would wish to marry the daughter of a traitor?" Tywin noticed how poised the girl was. Her time here had taught her to be guarded at all times. "Before I divulge further, I want you to know My Lady that man who seeks your hand would never let this continue." Gesturing to her cheek. "You are a Lady and should be treated as such. Tell me true who did this and he shall be dealt with accordingly."

"My Lord forgive me but I cannot." Sansa trembled. Tywin noticed the change in her, leaving his chair he sat on the table beside her. "My dear, there should be no secrets between a man and his Lady wife." Reaching out brushing a thumb across her bruised cheek. Sansa realizing what his words meant gasped and pushed his hand away in protest. "No! I-I cannot marry you!"

"I'm afraid young Lady, you have little choice in the matter... You see you are Lady of the North and I will not let it get into the hands of our enemies." Tywin felt a powder on his fingers and looked down to see purple on his thumb. "But tell me my Lady. What would prompt you to paint bruises on yourself?" Sansa became a flush of red. "I-I'm sorry My Lord! Please do not punish him for not following orders." Sansa pleaded as Tywin remained stoic. "The truth My Lady."

"You see... The Hound had shrouded me yesterday after Tyrion called The Kings Guards to stop their beating... when he came to collect it later today, he told me to make sure I had a bruise on my cheek before leaving my chamber. I can only presume he was ordered to punish me and wanted to make it look like he had done so." A smile crept upon Tywin's face. "So, the Dog disobeyed his owner, that is interesting."

"Please My Lord, please do not punish him."

"Worry not my sweet Lady, I am pleased you have confided in me on this matter. I hope you will confide in me again now we are set to be married." Sansa remember the proposal from moments ago, Tywin must have read the worry in her eyes. "Fear not, as I have said, you will no longer be at the mercy of the King, or anyone who wishes to harm you. Are we clear?" Sansa nodded her mouth agape. "Good." Tywin called his guard to escort the Lady to her chamber.

* * *

Sansa walked through the gardens, last night's meeting still in her mind. _I am to wed Tywin... Tywin! He could be my Grandfather! _Sansa allowed the cool breeze to wash over her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to find comfort in the fact she would no longer be Joffrey's toy. But as if hearing her thoughts, he manifested himself in front of her. "My Lady!" His eyes filled with malevolent delight. "I've come to give congratulations upon hearing the good news!" Sansa tried to carry on her walk in the garden after thanking the King for his kind words, but he pulled her closer, speaking into her ear. "My Grandfather is much too old to conceive an heir, but I can help him with that." His moth brushed against her ear as Sansa gasped and pushed him away. The King laughed, "should I call you grandmother now?" leaning in to kiss her but was stopped at the sound of Tyrion clearing his. "Your Grace, apologies for the intrusion, but I come bearing a wedding gift for the Lady from my Lord Father." The towering figure next to him did not move. "He is to be your sworn shield My Lady."

"This is absurd!" The Kind cried, "He is my dog!"

"Your Grace, my Father has asked you speak to him directly if you have any objections on the matter."

The King huffed as he stomped away like a child at the peak of a tantrum. Sansa could not help but laugh at his outburst. "It's good to see you smile My Lady." Tyrion said in an approving voice. "See that she is kept safe Clegane." The Hound nodded as Tyrion took his leave.


	3. Chapter 3

"Grandfather!" Joffrey stormed the tower of the hand.

"Ah. Your Grace!" Lord Tywin bowed, "Wonderful to see you. You finally took heed of my invite to come to the tower?" He paced methodically to his chair, gesturing for Joffrey to sit also. "Come, you must be weary from all those stairs. And you look as if you have much to say."

"I-I won't have it! He is my dog!" Joffrey hesitantly sat at the chair opposite his Grandfather. Tywin did not reply, with a raised eyebrow he sat waiting for The King to continue. "Well? Will you return him to me?" Joffrey's voice shook as he tried to assert himself. After a pause Tywin responded. "Your Grace, I did not think you had a need for such a hideous guard dog. You are a King are you not?"

"Well, yes-yes! I am King and I-"

"Therefore, you deserve only the best do you not?" The King squirmed in his seat. "Yes of course I do!"

"Good. Then we agree a lowly dog is no fit protector of such a King! Your Grace shall only have the finest of things." Tywin smiled, a smile of triumph. "The Stark girl is more befitting of that loathsome creature, wouldn't you say?" Joffrey seemed less sure of himself, "Yes... Yes I suppose she is."

"A wise decision Your Grace... Is there anything else that you require?"

"No... No, that will be all for now."

* * *

Sansa continued her walk through the garden, now escorted by The Hound and although she still feared the imposing man beside her Sansa felt herself relax, taking her time to enjoy the day. The warmth of the sun caressed her skin, still pale from a life in the North, loose tendrils of hair danced in the light breeze as she thought of how she may convers with the man. The Hound always had an air of tension about him but that seemed even more so today, and every so often Sansa would glance at him as if ready to finally speak but would swiftly turn and carry on her walk in silence. After her daily prayers within the most hidden part of the gardens Sansa returned to her chamber to ready herself for an evening meal Tywin, requesting they have privacy to discuss the forthcoming nuptials. Sansa was thankful for this, thankful Cersei would not be there to add any of her venom, if she was to marry then she would at least make it a happy occasion. Sandor stood outside her room while she dressed for the evening, Shae noticing the looming presence as she entered. "Why is that beast here?"

"He was a gift from my betrothed." Sansa replied, playfully slapping Shae on the arm, "and don't call him a beast, he is nothing of the sort." she sat at her vanity, Shae brushings her long auburn locks. "Why I dare say he has been kind to me." Shae noticed a sparkle in the young Lady's eyes as she spoke of The Hound. "You almost seem smitten." She teased while braiding Sansa's hair and pinning it up. The pair giggled, "How do you suppose one could talk to such a man?" Sansa turned to look up at her handmaid, "He always seem so cross and I only ever seem to anger him more."

"My Lady, did your mother ever teach you of men and what please them?"

Sansa brushed a full red, "NO! I-I... well... She taught me of my duties as a wife but... but never... that." Shae smiled softly, "Ah to be innocent again."

"Did your mother teach you?"

"NO... I wasn't born into a noble family. My choices were, less promising."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry I-"

"Hush now my Lady" Placing her hands on Sansa's shoulders whispering in her ear, "If you desire a man, even if that man be part beast, find ways to touch him... If he enjoys it, he will respond" The pair smiled at each other once more.

* * *

"I hope my gift pleased you My Lady." Tywin was sat opposite Sansa at a small dining table in his tower. Food was laid out across the table; a splendid array of roasted pheasant, some cheeses, fruits shipped in from the South so vibrant on colour Sansa swore they must have been painted. And next to her were freshly baked lemon cakes, the aroma caused Sansa's mouth to water. "Oh My Lord!" She plucked a slice of cake from the stand, "Yes! It does indeed!" Tywin laughed. "Yes. I had heard you were fond of lemon cakes... but I meant your Sworn Shield. I trust he is helping you feel more at ease?"

Sansa snorted, almost coughing on the lemon cake, "I'm not sure he could make anyone feel at ease, My Lord." Tywin smiled at her words. "But I feel safe to walk the Grounds now, thank you My Lord. It was a thoughtful gesture." A Squire poured the wine as Tywin broke into the pheasant. "My Lady you are soon to be a Lannister, and I know only too well how much you have suffered at our hands. In time, you will see that as my wife your happiness is of upmost importance." He rose his glass and Sansa followed suit, drinking her cup in one as she had never tasted such a fine wine, a deep red with scents of spices she could not place. Her cup had been filled several times until she began to feel a tingling trough her body, and a warm flush filled her cheeks. Drowsy she excused herself after thanking Tywin, The Hound had been waiting outside the chamber for her, noticing her uneasy state when called to escort her back.

"See that _My Lady_ is taken safely to her chamber Clegane." Tywin stared at the hulking man, unphased by the magnitude of his presence. The Hound peering down, a tension between them. Sansa unaware of the silent confrontation had a new found confidence while in her cups, taking The Hound by his arm. "You will have to steady me." Sandor abruptly broke her hold, "I _have _to do nothing girl." _Seven hells Bird! You trying to get us killed? _Sansa pursed her lips and left the tower is defiance.

"I suggest you follow her like the good dog you are." Tywin directed.

Sandor caught up to Sansa as she began to sway trying to outpace him, nearly losing her footing he grasped her arm pulling her back, "Careful girl!" His hand consumed her slender arm as he helped her down the remaining stairs, loosening his hold as they reached the bottom. His thumb gently brushed her arm, Sansa was unsure if it were intentional but the sensation caused a wave of electricity through her body. They walked in silence the rest of the way, but upon reaching her door Sansa turned finally confident to speak. "Forgive me Sir, I'm not myself this evening." Sandor scoffed, "The Little Bird is drunk and _still_ remembering her courtesies." Sansa struck him on his chest, "Must you always be so-so mean?" The hound was a little taken aback by her outburst though after a moment he closed the gap between them, his body pushing Sansa flush with the heavy wooden door. Her quickened breath upon his face caused a stirring within him, the thick armor concealing his rising blood throbbing with want for her. "Go to bed Little Bird." He purred. Betraying his own body he reluctantly stepped away from Sansa as silence once again fell between them, her full chest heaving as she caught her breath. She watched him walk away and a part of her wanted to protest, but the greater voice within screamed to retreat to her chamber and so she swiftly entered her room, barring the door behind as he took his post outside the chamber. _She will get you both killed before winter! You're a damn fool! _Sandor tried to will his frustration away. _But to taste something as sweet as her..._

* * *

Sandor had been called to speak with Lord Tywin. He didn't know what the old man wanted but was thankful to get away from The King. "Clegane, come, sit." Sandor did as he was asked, but was still confused as to what the hells The Hand wanted with him. "Tell me Clegane... Do you enjoy serving my Grandson?"

"I do as I'm told. I'm not told to enjoy it." Sandor's tone almost mocking the stupidity of the question. Tywin impervious to his tone. "Indeed... Then I wonder. Do you enjoy watching over my soon to be Lady Wife?" Sandor's eyes widened, only a little, but enough for Tywin to read his response. "As I thought."

"I have no time for Little Birds singing their songs." Sandor could fool many but Tywin was not many, he laughed at The Hound's attempt at shrugging the matter away. "Then I will have to find another to be her Sworn Shield... That is a pity. I'm not sure the next fellow would spare her a beating." Sandor shifted in his seat. "What are you getting at?"

"Lady Sansa confided in me about your unwillingness to strike her. Even at the order of The King... I could do with a man such as yourself Clegane. I take the care of my Lady very seriously. What say you?" The Hound thought for a moment, thinking if this were some sort of trap, or had his wishes been answered? Finally, he could truly protect his Bird. "Aye... I'll do it."

"Splendid. I shall have it finalized before the day is out." The Hound nodded but as he was leaving Tywin continued. "And Clegane!" He turned to face the Lord Hand. "I think we both know your true intentions towards my betrothed, do not mistake my wanting her safe for blindness. If I ever suspect you lay a hand on Sansa, the last thing you will see is your brother as he takes your head... And I dare say not even I could stop him from having his fun with My Lady after knowledge of your fancies. We both know how jealous he gets."


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa busied herself with wedding preparations for the past two days, Tywin advised that Cersei should help her but Sansa had pleaded with him to allow her handmaid Shae to help in Cersei's stead. This was most unheard of but Tywin soon complied, remembering that if he was to bed his wife on their wedding night with minimal protest, he must keep her in good spirits. The last thing Tywin needed was a crying maiden the night of the ceremony, but an heir must be conceived, so any request Sansa made Tywin allowed. Within reason. It was to be a small affair, which Tywin approved of, the spectacle of a large wedding did not appeal to him. After all, this was no marriage forged from love, like his first wedding with beloved Joanna... Whenever Tywin closed his eyes, he reminisced how she could always make him smile, how her voice were as soft as a bird in song; those green eyes that shone like emeralds causing him to submit to her every wish. Lady Sansa had her charms, no doubt about it, Tywin resolved she was fair enough to turn any man's head. But now duty must take priority, the Lannister house must live on, grow in strength and feelings would not get in the way of prosperity.

Sansa had avoided speaking to The Hound after their confrontation, only thanking him for his services at the end of the day, to which he would never reply. The days would keep her mind busy, though it was a wedding she did not want, Sansa began to warm to Lord Tywin during their evenings together. She had never seen him smile before but he would often look surprisingly happy when they were alone, and he had made her safety a priority; the difference was that of night and day when comparing how her last betrothed had treated her. Yet she could not help the butterflies in the pit of her stomach when The Hound would walk a little too close to her, or when their eyes met as she left her chamber in the morn, Sandor promptly looking away each time. Sansa deciding his new coldness towards her must mean he did not bear her any second thought or feeling. After her dress fitting Sansa strolled through the court yard, noting that the Lady's had begun regarding her presence once more, each curtseying politely as they passed to which Sansa returned the gesture. However, Sansa was too aware of the deceit seeped within Kings Landing and would never trust the Lords and Ladies again. Turning into a passage that led to her stairwell Sansa nearly collided with a man moving at speed, he was dirty, an arm fastened with bandages and a sling about his neck. Before having a chance to react to the strange man in front of her The Hound had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him away from her.

"Unhand me!" He cried. Sansa recognized the voice and could now see his eyes were glassy, as if he had been crying. Sansa nodded at The Hound to release him. "Much obliged My Lady." He added while removing himself from The Hound's grip.

"Just who are you Ser?" Sansa questioned the man, still trying to place where she had heard his voice.

"Apologies," He bowed his head, "I must look a fright." His green eyes penetrating her, "I'm not much of a Lion today."

"Ser Jaime?" Sansa reached out to his wounded arm. "What happened to you?"

* * *

"I hope you're happy!" Rob stormed the tent where his mother was currently being held captive after freeing the King Slayer, a parchment in his hand as he paced back and forth. "A raven came!" He threw it at his mother. Lady Catelyn took the crumpled parchment reading it over and over, her brow knotting tighter each time her eyes skimmed the words. "What is the meaning of this?" She finally spoke lifting her head to look at her son.

"Exactly what it means to say! Sansa is set to wed Tywin! My baby sister and that old monster!" His fists clenched, "And we might have had a chance to bargain if you hadn't freed the King Slayer!"

"I did what I thought best!" Catelyn's voice softened as she looked at the parchment once more. "He swore he would bring my girls back to me."

"And you believed an oath braker?! Mother I had you as my council 'cause I believed you to be wise." He chastised. Catelyn rose from her seat and in one swift motion struck her son hard upon his cheek. "I did what I could to save my daughters!" Rob's hand instinctually rose to sooth the panging flesh. "Or have you forgotten you too broke an oath? One that nearly severed our alliance with the Frey's." The pair regained composure, Rob realizing he too had played a part in his sister's circumstance. "My son, we are fortunate Walder Frey accepted another in your stead, after tomorrow is done, we will have safe passage past The Twins and the extra men needed to help Sansa." Rob agreed. Neither trusted the old Lord Frey, but at present, the morrow's wedding was their only hope at succeeding in this war.

* * *

Tywin had called for a celebratory dinner to welcome his son's return; it was held in one of the larger dining halls as many of the noble Lords and Ladies of Kings Landing had been called to join the celebration. Sansa could not help replaying her encounter with Ser Jaime earlier that day. _What happened to you?... I'm afraid this is curtesy of your family, My Lady. _She had been mortified that his deformity was at the hands of her house and banner men, and worried what might be done to her in retaliation this evening. Shae had attempted to comfort her, reminding her of Tywin's promise to keep her safe, but this was his son and Sansa was sure some form of public humiliation awaited her. Cautiously Sansa readied herself, wearing her hair half down, half in a braided bun with loose curls around her face. She never did like the southern way of styling hair and after reading of exotic lands, in the books she accessed during her evenings at the tower of The Hand, Sansa began asking Shae to style it as they did from her home land. Tonight's style was truly a work of art Sansa thought. Her dress was simple with only gold trim around the neck line, the royal blue fabric flowed with ease, caressing her curves. It was modest, covering her breast but came down a little lower at the back as the long sleeves seemed to flow with the rest of the gown. A loud rapping on the door came before The Hound entered, Sansa was a vision of perfection and Sanor drank in her image in that moment, gulping before he spoke. "You're gonna be late." Was all he could muster as he tried not to fumble over his words. Sansa blushed, "Thank you, Ser." Sandor would usually correct her that he was no _Ser_ but his mouth was too agape to find the words, hastily leaving the chamber to wait outside.

The Hall was filled when Sansa entered, noise of many conversations and laughter echoed as she made her way to Lord Tywin. At the main table Lord Tywin sat at one end with Ser Jaime next to him, Cersei looked most unhappy next to The King who sat at the opposite end with Lady Margaery while Tyrion seemed well into his cups at the middle of the table. Tywin rose from his seat to greet her. "You look radiant My Lady." Taking her hand, kissing it firmly. "Thank you, My Lord." He did not seem cross with her putting Sansa at ease a little. "Forgive me My Lady my son has taken you seat." Tywin turned to Jaime prompting him so move to the next seat, near Tyrion. Cersei looked at him with distain as he rebuffed her request to come sit next to her. Sansa felt an uneasy tension between them but reasoned not to speak of it aloud. As they dined the pair shared catty comments, Tyrion looking most amused by the spectacle. The King was blissfully unaware, bewitched by the Lady at his side, this too brought Sansa at ease as Joffrey was always on best behavior around the Lady Margaery.

"Lady Sansa," Jaime turned to her, "May I say how lovely you look this evening. I can see why my Father chose to keep you for himself." He rose his glass. "To the happy couple!" a roar of cheers came from the Lords with raised cups. Tywin monitored his son's behavior as he drank one cup after the other, excusing himself from the table to relieve himself, to which Cersei followed. Sansa eat a few bites and drank a little of the wine but did not allow her guard down as fears of another humiliation still lingered in her mind. When Jamie returned Sansa saw that Cersei was also in her seat, yet if looks could kill, Jamie would have been struck dead there and then. The awkwardness was easily felt yet everyone seemed to ignored it and now the hour was late many of the guests began to trail off, Sansa saw the opportunity to excuse herself also.

The sky was clear, hues of navy into black, stars speckled across twinkling brightly. "Oh isn't it beautiful." She sighed, The Hound did not reply remaining slightly behind her step, admiring her quietly. How her eyes shone as bright as the stars, the innocent wonder in her gaze as she looked upon them. Inwardly vowing to keep her safe for the rest of his days, not letting his fondness for the girl bring her harm. No. He will do his duty and squash his lust, lest it end them both, the thought of Gregor's hands on his Bird was enough to stop his wondering thoughts. Reaching Sansa's chamber, she once again she thanked him for his days service. "You're welcome." He grumbled. Sansa, surprised that he at last responded, turned to face the man as he was taking a seat at his post outside her bedchamber. "Goodnight."

* * *

Unable to sleep, Sansa curled up in her bed covers still spying the stars through her window, anticipation of the coming wedding creeping in her mind every time she would try to fall to sleep. A light knocking on her door gave her a fright but she soon laughed at herself for being so easily spooked, reaching for her robe. Sansa assumed it must be The Hound but found as she opened the chamber door, Ser Jaime stood leaning against the door frame. His eyes glazed over as he used the frame to prop himself up. "Ser! What are you doing here? Is something a matter?"

"Ah, My Lady." His eyes straining to focus. "I found myself wandering the halls, not much else for a cripple to do you see, but happily my feet led me here."

"Ser you mustn't think of yourself in that way. You will upset yourself again." Jaime raised an eyebrow, "Again?"

"Why yes, I didn't like saying so at the time but I noticed you had been upset when we met earlier today. You mustn't let it get to you."

Jaime let out a sinister laugh, "Ah yes, _that's _why I was upset." Remembering how he'd walked in on Cersei sleeping with another. "You really are too kind for my Father." Stumbling, he pushed the door open into her room. "Ser! This is most indecent!" Sansa appalled by his brazen behavior. "I'll call for help. My shield will not be pleased when he finds you here." Jaime fell onto the bed, "Haha! Oh, sweet Lady, there's no need to be so uptight. We're almost family." Sansa stormed up to him, swatting him hard on the leg. "I mean it! I'll-I'll scream!"

"No one would hear you, even your faithful dog needs rest. He's sound asleep in his bed, I assume, or releasing himself in some brothel. Heavens knows a man would need to after watching you all day." Jaime snorted.

"Ow!" She continued hitting him, "You Ser! Are beastly! Out!" She attempted to haul him up from her bed by his good arm, but Jaime easily over powered her, pulling Sansa down onto him. The uninjured arm draped around Sansa's back as his hand ran the length of her spine, coming to a stop just above her cheeks. She squirmed in his arms, "Unhand me!" Jaime moved in to kiss her.

"You'll listen to the girl, if you know what's good for you." The Hound growled from the doorway.


	5. Chapter 5

Sansa pried herself away from Jaime's grasp as The Hound entered the chamber. Jamie, still inebriated, remained lying on the bed but cocked his head to the man at the doorway. "Ah, there's the big fellow." He brought himself up to sit with his arms up in surrender, "I didn't mean the Lady any harm." He rose nonchalantly passing Sansa, who remained clutching at her robe after the encounter, "Just a bit of fun, you remember fun, don't you Clegane?" In that moment all of Sandor's reasoning and logic left him, a pure rage consumed his mind as the Lion grinned at him, that charismatic grin The Hound despised. Without thought his body motioned towards Jaime, all of his anger bubbling over, channeling into his closed fist as it hit Jaime square in the face, knocking the man cold to the ground. Sansa squealed at the sight of the Lannister unconscious on her bedchamber floor. The Hound scoffed while rubbing his knuckles, "Huh... You're right, that was fun."

"You've killed him!" Sansa screeched.

"Calm your squawking," The Hound kicked his leg lightly, "He's not dead, just out for a while."

"Well what do you plan to do?" Sansa marched up to The Hound. "There's a Lannister bleeding on my floor," Her arm gesturing at the heap on the ground. "And not just any Lannister, but the golden child of my betrothed!" Sansa's panic rose. "What are we going to do?"

"I'll dump him somewhere."

"You can't _dump him somewhere!_ He's quite recognizable in case you'd forgot. What if someone saw?!"

"Well none of that will matter if you wake the whole castle! Now stop your howling and bar the door." Sansa did as she was told, hurrying back to The Hound's side. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well what do we do?" She cried.

"I'm thinking!"

Sansa huffed at his words, "Well you can't just carry him out of here. What if someone saw?"

"No one would dare say anything to me."

"Yes, well that maybe so, but it would be a bit odd that _my_ shield is seen carrying a bloody Jaime Lannister... What would Tywin say?" Horror filled Sansa's face, "He's just going to have to stay here until he wakes."

"Are you mad girl? He was just all over you, and now you expect me leave him here?"

"Then-Then I guess you will have to stay too." The Hound laughed at her but Sansa pulled out extra bedding from a chest at the foot of her bed, throwing it on the large arm chair she had at her reading desk. "That should do you."

"And what, Little Bird, are we to do with him?" The pair looked at the sleeping Lion.

"Won't he wake soon enough?"

The Hound scoffed, "He won't wake for some time, far too pissed for his own good."

"Well then... lift him onto the bed." The Hound looked at her in protest. "Not in the bed, just put him on the far end there. He can't very well stay on the floor."

"He'll bloody your sheets." Sandor pointed at Jaime's wound. Sansa disappeared to her wash room, returning with a clean cloth while tearing a piece from it, twisting it tight before plugging the blood that came from one side of Jaime's nose. "There!" She looked up at The Hound smiling, pleased with her solution. The Hound sighed before lifting the limp man to the bed, Sansa covered him with another sheet from the chest, noting red stains he had left on her floor. After placing the bedding over him, Sansa fetched a small bowl of water from her wash room, dipping the rest of the cloth to clean away the blood. Sandor knelt down to her, "Here, let me."

"No! You've done quite enough thank you."

"Suit yourself," The Hound barked, taking his seat at the arm chair. "You'd rather I'd left him all over you, is that it?"

"No of course not!" She threw the cloth into the basin, returning them to the wash room, still chattering as she went. "By all the Gods you are an impossible man, from one moment to the next I do not know whether you will be civil towards me or cold as if I were not there. And now, now! You accuse me of wanton and enjoying such indecency! Well. You may be no Ser, Ser. But I am a Lady! And Tywin may not be the man I desire but he will be a good kind husband." Making her way back into the main chamber. "And I would not ruin that by acting a harlot with his son!"

"I get it, there's no need to get your feathers in a bunch." The Hound jested, now wrapped in the bedding Sansa had given him with a small decorative pillow at his head, trying to create some comfort for the night ahead. He battled with the pillow when Sansa threw a bed pillow at him, clouting him on the head. "There." She giggled, Sandor looking most unamused by her actions. Sansa left her robe on as she began tucking herself into bed, The Hound watching her, pondering the words she had spoken.

"So... who _is_ the man you desire?"

"What?" Sansa's eyes widened, her face becoming a flush of pink. "What do you mean _who,_ there is no who." She sat up in the bed, Sandor appearing smug knowing her unintentional confession. "You misheard, _Ser." _But Sansa's attempt to redirect the conversation to his loathing of that title did not work. The Hound gibed, "Come now Bird, tell me about him. I'm sure he is dull enough to send me right off to sleep." Sansa's face scrunched, "If you _must_ know, he is quite impossible. I must have been foolish to think he was worthy of my affections. But it is no matter, he seems _much_ happier berating me than doing any foolish thing I may have imagined." With that Sansa flung herself down on the bed, pulling the bed covers up to her face. "Goodnight, Ser." Sandor took pause as Sansa's words sunk in, her statement seemed personally directed at him, but that could not be right. She could never want him, could she? Surely, he was only hearing what he wished to hear. No. She would never want such a monster.

* * *

Jaime awoke to a tremendous throbbing in his head, the previous night a blur, the hour was early as light had not fully crept in and when the room came into focus he realized he was not in his chamber. Nor was he in Cersei's. Slowly he brought himself up from the bed, unable to breath fully he pulled a blood-soaked rag from his nose when at once last night rushed back to him. Shame washed over Jaime as he relived the memory, all he could think to do was leave the chamber when Sandor spoke. "So, the sleeping beauty is awake." Jamie sighed, "Gods, you're not here for round two, are you?"

"Depends how stupid you intend on acting today." The Hound taunted.

"Look, I'm sorry for last night, truly, I am. I know you're not the feeling type Clegane but love, ah _love_, it can do strange things to a man... even more so when it's thrown back in your face." Sansa stirred at the sound of their voices, rubbing her eyes forgetting momentarily that she had Jaime Lannister _and_ The Hound in her bedchamber. Her night dress had shifted in the night, exposing the smooth skin upon her shoulder, still drowsy she sat up. "Is it even morning yet?" She glanced at the two men, Sandor eyeing her motioning to cover herself. Still a little annoyed with him Sansa scoffed, "I don't think my shoulder is the most pressing issue at present." Turning to Jaime, "Are you sober now?"

"Yes, about that. Please except my sincerest apologies My Lady I-"

"He's awake, that's all that matters. Now let's get out of here before the whole castle wakes." The sun had already begun to rise.

"Ser, if you please, I would like to hear him speak." Jaime could not help but feel amused at the young girl dominating The Hound. "My Lady, as I said to your rather unconvinced protector, I was simply not myself last night. I deeply regret hurting such a sweet Lady. Truly, I am sorry."

"You did not hurt me. But if you speak truthfully, I except your apology Ser Jaime."

"You are too kind." He reached out to take Sansa's hand before The Hound cleared his throat in warning. "Yes, probably not the best idea... Now I really must get going." The Hound begun opening the door for Jamie to make his exit but swiftly shut it. "Bloody maids, walking this way. What in hells do they want with you so early." he barred the door. Sansa darted out of bed unaware her night gown had fully opened in her sleep, showing her full figure through the light shift. The handmaids knocked on the door before trying to open it, all three stood in Sansa's chamber looking at one another in search of what to do.

"Lady Sansa, are you awake My Lady?" I handmaid called.

"Uh... Um... Yes, I-I'm awake... But I'm afraid I'm quite ill... Please could you come back later?"

"My Lady the wedding is on the morrow. There's much to do."

"Yes," _Oh Gods this couldn't possibly get any worse. _"I-I will be down for my fitting later."

"Very well My Lady."

The three sighed in relief. "Right," Jaime whispered, "As soon as the coast is clear we best be off." The Hound nodded in agreement. After waiting a while Sandor slowly unbarred the door, attempting to make as little noise as possible, through a crack in the doorway he spied the corridor at first thinking they could now make their escape, but figures came around the corner, The Hound shut and barred the door.

"Oh Gods what is it now?" Jaime moaned.

"I didn't leave it open long enough to see."

"My Lady! I had hoped you'd join me this morning." Lord Tywin's deep voice bellowed through the door. Sansa began to panic and looked fit to pass out, clutching at her chest the two men speeded to her side to catch her. "My Lady."

"Calm down Bird," The hound murmured, Sansa looked to him, his gaze holding hers as her breath slowed down once more.

"I-I'm sorry My Lord! I'm unwell... Forgive me. Could we meet later?"

"Yes, your handmaids had informed me. I'm afraid I'm not leaving until I have ensured my bride is in no need of a Maester." Sansa's eyes widened, still holding onto The Hound, "It's ok Little Bird, just stay calm."

"One moment!" She called. "You both need to hide."

Jamie pulled Sandor, "Quick in here." They both crept to the wash room shutting the door behind them. Sansa took a moment to compose herself before opening the door. "My-My Lord." Sansa's hair tumbled wildly down to her nightgown, still open showing the top of her breasts, Tywin entered the chamber. "My Lady, even unwell you look radiant as ever." Sansa looked down to where Tywin's eyes had lingered and saw her gown had been open, blushing she fastened it shut while Tywin sat next to her on the bed. "It is nothing serious, I'm sure of it... Wedding nerves perhaps?"

"My dear, there really is no need to be so nervous." His hand brushed her soft cheek, lightly pushing the loose hair behind her ear. "You might find yourself surprised and enjoy tomorrow night." A sudden crash was heard from the joining room, Tywin turned to inspect the noise but Sansa drew him in, kissing him upon the lips.


	6. Chapter 6

The Hound and Jaime held silent in the wash chamber almost holding their breaths fearing Tywin would discover their whereabouts, straining their ears, listening intently as they waited for the opportunity to finally escape. Huddled by the wash basin neither man moved. "It is nothing serious, I'm sure of it... Wedding nerves perhaps?" Could be heard from the Lady. "My dear, there really is no need to be so nervous... You might find yourself surprised and enjoy tomorrow night." The thought of Sansa's wedding night with Tywin caused Sandor to involuntarily clench his fist, stopping himself from hitting the wall Sandor pulled his hand back catching the basin, knocking it to the ground with an almighty crash. Jaime jerked at the sudden noise shaking his head at the giant. They both braced themselves for impending discovery, yet nothing... "Leave us!" They heard Lord Tywin command. The Hound placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and began to un-sheath it, Jaime's eyes widened, mouthing silently at Sandor to put his word away. The Hound complied, the voices from Sansa's chamber were unclear through the walls as The Hound and Jaime bickered silently at one another, until the sound of a faint moan could be heard. The Hound clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth were surely going to crack. Jaime recognized what was in Sandor's eyes, he knew because he too had felt that same rage within, a rage of jealousy.

* * *

Sansa did the only thing she could think of to distract Lord Tywin, swiftly kissing him, his lips did not protest her actions; only braking from her to order his accompanying guards to leave them. Once they were alone Tywin observed Sansa for a moment before speaking. "My Dear, come sit here." Sansa moved closer as he took her hand, leading her onto his lap. "My Lord." Sansa gasped now straddling the intimidating Tywin Lannister, this pleased him greatly and knowing she was naive in the ways of men Tywin grazed her lips with his thump, parting them so he could kiss her fully. His arm was strong as it encased around her though Sansa hadn't expected his body to feel firm with muscle, her delicate hands resting on his chest as the hand that drew her to him still cupped her face. Sansa naturally pulled back when Tywin kissed her, never before feeling a man's tongue caress her own, but Tywin's grip held her to him and soon the feeling of his passion caused Sansa to moan into his mouth. Braking away to catch her breath, Tywin smiled, "You're already enjoying it more than you thought, My Lady." Sansa blushed, ashamed that his words were true. "Untie your robe."

"My-My Lord, I-I can't... I-"

"My Lady you have nothing to feel shameful of, we are soon to be man and wife. And we are now alone." Sansa wearily untied the ribbon that held her robe shut, allowing it to open exposing her now shapely body, Tywin slowly uncovered her dropping the gown to the floor. He could feel her trembling undoubtedly expecting him to take her against her will, her pale pink nipples peeked through the light night dress, pressing against the fabric with each inhale. "My Lady, do you fear I will hurt you?" Sansa timidly nodded. "I promise only to ever please you." He drew her back to his lips slowly deepening his kiss as Sansa relaxed into him, cupping her butt cheeks Tywin lifted Sansa, placing her onto the bed as she let out a yelp. Trailing kisses down from her neck to her breast prickling with goosepimples at his touch, "Oh!" Sansa had tried to stay silent after her outburst earlier but this new sensation had caused her to be vocal yet again. A wave of electricity surged from her core causing her body to pulsate. Tywin gazed up at her, "My Lady is pleased?" Sansa panted, ashamed Tywin's touch had affected her in such a way and humiliated knowing Jaime and The Hound had surely heard the spectacle. "Yes... My Lord." She spoke as Tywin lifted from her.

"I hope we now have an understanding, My Lady, you have nothing to fear and I will ensure there is no bedding ceremony." Taking her hand to kiss it once more Tywin took his leave from Sansa's chamber, she remained sitting still a little out of breath.

After a few moments of silence Jaime popped his head round the door, unsure how to approach Sansa as she seemed just as uncomfortable as he. Giving her a sympathetic nod, Jaime left the chamber, Sansa made her way to the wash chamber finding The Hound in a rage. "I'm sorry..." She whispered.

"Spare me your courtesies girl." Sandor spat, "From what I heard you weren't complaining."

"I... I had to! He would have found you-you both." Sansa's eyes pleaded with him as she moved further into the room. The hound closed the gap between them, grasping both her arms, pining her against the wall. "Don't lie to me, you enjoyed it, admit it!" His body was flush against Sansa, pressing her further into the wall. Her body trembled as he squeezed tighter, she never feared he would hurt her, until now. "Please... don't hurt me." Sansa's voice broke as her eyes welled. The sight of his bird in utter terror at his hands was enough to snap The Hound from his rage, fleeing the room before he ruined the little bird.

* * *

The next morning, Sansa was not surprised when The Hound had not been at his post by her door, feelings of unease at the impending wedding later that day squashed any appetite she had. Refusing any food brought to her, Shae noticed her sadness, Sansa always had a hint of it in her eyes no one could blame her after all she had been through. But today it seemed to consume her.

"My Lady?" She whispered while fixing her hair, "There's no need to worry, Tywin will keep you safe and he is still handsome... For his age." She jested trying to coax a smile from the young girl. Sansa feigned a smile, not wanting to divulge what really bothered her and how all she wished to do in this moment was make a mends with her Hound. Though she supposed he was no longer _her Hound_ and she had surely lost him after the events of the previous day.

She walked towards the great doors of the hall, clinging to her wedding gown, picturing all the guests who were beyond the door, and her now to be Lord Husband. Joffrey had been charged with walking Sansa down the aisle and giving her away, a task he reveled in, but to Sansa's surprise Lord Tywin greeted her outside the hall. She bowed her head. "My Lord." Her confusion rang clear. "My Lord, forgive me, but isn't The King giving me away?" Lord Tywin eyed her up and down before taking her arm in his and slowly guiding her to the doors. "My Lady, I'm afraid I had to deny my Grandson the pleasure as there has been a change of plan. It appears my son has become quite taken with you." He glanced at her once more, "And who could blame him. So, I granted him the honor of marrying you today." Sansa pulled on Twin as she froze in shock, her eyes pleaded with him but found no remorse, his demeanor remaining cool and calculated.

* * *

"Father, can I ask why you called for me so urgently?" Jaime entered Tywin's parlor, as Tywin turned he noted the bruising in Jaime's face. "Ah, yes, I'd heard you'd messed yourself up. And what, _might I ask_, got you into that predicament?" Jaime stumbled over his words thinking of some excuse that might pass as a good alibi. "Jaime, you never were a good liar. And I find it insulting that you hold so little regard for your father that you think I would not already know where you were this morning... Now tell me. Why were you in My Ladies chamber?" Jamie tried to explain how he had drunk far too much that evening and the Lady Sansa came to his aid after hearing him fall outside her chamber, to which he then passed out in his cups in her room. Fearing how it might look he hid in her wash room until it was safe to leave unseen. "Though I should have known better than to think you would have left her room unguarded, Father."

"Is that the truth of it... wholly?" Tywin interrogated. Jaime nodded. "Then it is a pity I can no longer marry the young beauty myself." Jaime's face dropped, "Why not?"

"You think I would show weakness to Lannister men, come now, you know how they gossip more than a bunch of cackling hens... No, I'm afraid you will be marrying Lady Sansa, after all, half the army will already think you have bedded her by morning. And I will not have the legitimacy of another Lannister heir be brought into question!... Is that understood." Jaime sanky into the closest chair, dumbfounded, unable to protest as he knew what his father's words meant. "Marrying you off should end those spiteful rumors once and for all." With that, he sent his son away, to prepare for the joyous day ahead of him.

* * *

The Hound had no interest in watching Sansa marry, his blood boiled at the thought of it, so he opted for a local tavern instead to drown his sorrows or even better to get so into his cups he forgot them all together. No one dared speak to him there, which suited him as he was in no mood for local fools, drinking one pitcher after another slowly feeling his mind unwind. Until he overheard a conversation between Lannister guards.

"'Ey! D'you 'ere of Jaime and the pretty little red Wolf? He's only gone an' married 'er."

"I thought Ser Jaime only had taste for Lioness." One guard roared, as they all scoffed in agreement.

"I'm tellin' ya... Apparently a few of the guards saw him sneakin' away from 'er room."

Another man heckled, "I bet Tywin wasn't too pleased!" another roar of laughter came from the group.

"No! Threw her away like old bread 'e did."

"Can't say I'd give up the chance to taste her." The guards agreed with that, they had all admired her new womanly shape. The Hound had heard enough, slamming his cup into the table splintering the wood, the guards turned to see the commotion but none of them dared speak to him as he thundered out of the inn.


End file.
